


Imaginary Chill

by PenguinPickle



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Aramis is cold, Athos is a sweethert, Brotherly Love, Fluff, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, The fluffiest fluff, boys being adorable, cuteness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-27
Updated: 2016-03-27
Packaged: 2018-05-29 13:02:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6375844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PenguinPickle/pseuds/PenguinPickle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aramis is cold, and Porthos is away on a mission. OR The one where Athos buys Aramis a gift, which results in a small misunderstanding.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Imaginary Chill

Aramis tugged his blankets tighter around him and exhaled sharply. He wasn't sure how long he had been lying in bed with his eyes closed, not even drifting an inch closer to sleep. The most irritating part of not being able to fall asleep was that he was, in fact, quite tired. No, he was exhausted. But he was cold. His blankets were not a strong enough force against the imaginary chill sweeping in from beneath his door. His body also felt like it was covered in a certain type of ice that could not be thawed by mere fabric, but rather by a human warmth beside him. He shivered and tugged the blankets over his head, squeezing his eyes shut.

All his usual female companions were occupied with their husbands and, if he was truthful, he did not have the energy to entertain a woman this night. He wanted to sleep, so desperately in fact that he had climbed into Porthos' empty bed in hope that it would help. But it did not. Porthos was not there, he was away on a week-long mission for the king. Aramis brought his knees up and curled his body as tightly as he could. It did not work, his mind was screaming and his body was shivering.

He groaned into the emptiness of Porthos' room and sat up, throwing the blankets off himself in defeat. He climbed out of the bed and got dressed, pulling on his coat and a scarf for good measure. He opened the door and stepped into the cold night. If he was to remain awake, he might as well do it in the company of the only man who would also be awake at this hour. He climbed down the stairs and headed out of the garrison, and into the streets of Paris.

The tavern was surprisingly full, although it was filled with the sort of folk Aramis would only associate with late night brawling. There were people gambling, drinking and fighting. But it was a little warmer than Porthos' room. He scanned the back tables until his eyes landed on a familiar face. Athos had already spotted him and was watching him approach with narrowed eyes, which carried an unnecessary amount of suspicion in their gaze. Aramis smirked at him, to which the only reaction he received was a raised eyebrow.

"What have you done?" Athos asked, before Aramis was seated beside him.

"Why should I have done anything?" Aramis asked, trying to sound as hurt as possible.

"Because you went to your room over two hours ago," Athos stated flatly, "And you never come here so late."

"I missed you, is all." Aramis replies with a twinkling smile.

Athos' eyes narrow so much he becomes dangerously close to looking like he just fell asleep, "What did you do Aramis? You must have done something. Porthos is not here and I know how… bored you two can get when left without each other."

Aramis rolls his eyes, "I couldn't sleep."

Athos glares at him intently for a while, without saying anything. Eventually he grabs his jug of wine and pores some into a mug, handing it to Aramis, without saying a word.

They sit in silence sipping their wine and watching the goings-on of the tavern. Neither of them speaks to one another, comfortable in their silence. Aramis nudges slightly closer to Athos every now and then, in an attempt to absorb as much warmth as he can. He does not dare move too close, neither wants to seem obvious nor invade Athos' personal space. He is satisfied to merely sit and listen to the crowd around them, feeling safe beside his brother, feeling a warmth that his thin blankets could not provide. A part of him knows that Athos understands, not many people ever sit beside him in his corner and remain there for very long. When Aramis shivers, Athos does not mention that it is the middle of summer.

…

Athos watches Aramis out of the corner of his eye. He has not missed the way Aramis shivers and tries to hide it, nor is he unaware of how Aramis is edging ever closer to him in his seat. Athos sips his wine lazily and watches the people around them. He sees men flirt with bar maids, watches them lose their earnings with cards, and how they drink themselves unconscious. From the minute he saw Aramis step inside the tavern he knew he would have to stop himself from drinking too much. At first he thought his brother was in trouble, as Aramis attracts trouble almost as easily as he attracts married women. But when Aramis came closer he could see that familiar sadness in his eyes, that dimming light in them when his mind is replaying things he should long since have left behind.

Athos knows all about such things. So he sips his wine at a slower pace and nudges ever so slightly closer to Aramis. He does not like seeing his brothers in pain, but even worse is the pain that Athos cannot protect them from, the pain that lingers in their own memories. So he vows to do what he can, and if Aramis needs his company to get a decent nights rest, then that is what Athos will give him.

Athos is about to pore Aramis another mug of wine when he notices his brother's eyes drooping. He smiles slightly and stands up, placing a hand on Aramis' shoulder before his face can make sudden contact with the table.

"Come on," Athos says, "you look like hell, time for bed."

Aramis blushes slightly and looks at the table, "You still have half a jug of wine left."

"I grew tired of it," Athos lies, and he knows Aramis sees right through it because his eyebrows shoot up dramatically.

Athos watches Aramis stand and sees how his shoulders slump. Whatever plan Aramis had, which probably included sleeping in the tavern if only to not be alone, Athos has put an end to it. Yet he understands why Aramis suddenly looks so put out, he thinks Athos will send him back, will leave him to struggle on his own. Athos would never do that.

"You can come to my apartment," Athos says, "It is closer. You look like you won't make the walk all the way back to the garrison."

Neither of them mention the fact that Athos' apartment is but a mere street away from the garrison and when Aramis' face turns to pure relief, Athos feels a small ache in his heart. He wishes he could do more for Aramis, Athos muses as they walk side by side down the cobble road. Athos has always felt a strong sense of responsibility for his two brothers and he realised a long time ago that he would do anything for them, whether they know it or not. He knows they think they can keep him in the dark easily, but he is a very observant man. He sees the tired eyes and recognises them for what they are. They are not the result of a busy day, but rather a haunted past.

By the time they reach Athos' apartment, he can sense Aramis' reluctance. He opens the door and waits for Aramis to step inside first.

"Athos," Aramis says, "I do not wish to intrude."

Athos sighs. Aramis might be mischief personified but he is the most selfless person he knows. Of course Aramis would put manners before his own suffering.

"You are not intruding, Aramis." Athos reassures him and when Aramis hesitates further her adds, "We both need a decent nights rest. The captain will not be happy if you are unfocused tomorrow."

He says this because he knows it is the only logic Aramis will accept. In truth, Athos will never be able to sleep himself knowing Aramis is troubled. Athos needs to protect him just as much as Aramis needs to feel safe. Neither will ever mention this out loud, of course.

Aramis steps through the door and waits for Athos to lock it behind him. He watches him light some candles and leads them upstairs to his room. He watches, with a smirk, as Aramis tries to resist the urge to dive in his bed, shoes and all.

They remove their coats and shoes in silence and Athos waits for Aramis to finish. He looks at him questioningly and Athos gestures to the bed.

"You sleep beside the wall, it will be warmer." Athos explains.

Aramis nods and climbs in. Athos follows and blows out the candles beside his bed once they are settled.

"Whnkmnbnktaths?" Aramis mumbles.

"I apologise," Athos says sarcastically, "I did not hear that."

Aramis extracts his face from the pillow and repeats, "Where did you get this blanket? It's so warm and soft."

"I bought it from Monsieur Bonacieux, as a matter of fact." Athos replies, "Is it keeping you warm enough?"

He watches as Aramis snuggles deeper underneath it, the moonlight revealing just a patch of hair sticking out.

"It's perfect." Aramis states and is asleep within seconds.

Athos gazes up at the roof of his room and sighs. He shifts slightly closer to Aramis, just close enough for their arms to touch and starts feeling himself growing sleepy. It does not take long for Aramis to turn and rest his head on Athos' shoulder, who pats his hair in response. Porthos always joked about how Aramis is more of their pet cat than their brother. He smiles and closes his eyes, drifting off to a pleasant slumber.

…

It is immensely satisfying, waking up beside someone who appreciates your company so much that they would go as far as to use you as their pillow. Athos carefully extracts himself from Aramis' firm grasp. He freezes when he hears a soft groan but gently pats Aramis' hair so as to get him to fall back into deep sleep.

The morning light indicates it is still far too early for them to be getting up, but Athos has an idea, one which cannot wait. He slowly gets dressed; staying as quiet as possible and silently leaves the room.

The morning air is like a fresh cool cloth on his face and he inhales deeply, pauses before walking down the street to allow his mind to wake up properly. He heads down the road, enjoying the sounds of the market people getting their stalls set up. The growing rumble of Paris is like a soothing melody, one he will never grow tired of. It is home, or at least the closest thing to it.

Monsieur Bonacieux does not let Athos finish his apology for calling upon him so early. Athos thinks the man is quite thrilled to be getting business, no matter the hour. He hands Athos an ornate box after he pays him and thanks him for purchasing from him again.

Once he is back from his morning errand, he opens the door quietly to his room to find Aramis still asleep, his mouth hanging open slightly. Athos shakes his head and smiles, he places the box next to Aramis and shakes his shoulder gently.

"Aramis," Athos calls, "You need to wake up or we'll be late."

Aramis groans and opens his eyes slowly.

"You're already dressed." He states.

"Very observant of you," Athos drawls, and pulls the covers off Aramis before he can wriggle beneath them.

"Alright, alright." Aramis whines and flops out of bed, "What's that?"

Athos pulls the box closer and gestures for Aramis to open it, "It's for you. I paid Monsieur Bonacieux a visit this morning."

Aramis looks confused but opens the box all the same. His face is an image of shock as he stares at the blanket inside.

"It's just like your one," He whispers, "But Athos, this fabric must have cost a fortune!"

Before Aramis can refuse his gift, Athos raises his hands, "Don't be ridiculous Aramis, it's just a blanket. I thought it might help keep you warm."

He watches as Aramis lifts the blanket and runs a hand over the soft, heavy fabric. He looks transfixed with a suspicious wetness to his eyes. For a moment, Athos worries that he has done something wrong, but before he can ask, Aramis has thrown himself at him.

Aramis' arms wrap around Athos tightly and he buries his face in his neck, "Athos… thank you so much."

Athos is so shocked at the sudden contact he only realises a moment after that he should wrap his arms around Aramis in turn, as is customary with hugs.

"You are most welcome, Aramis." He says as he squeezes Aramis back, "I hope I did not upset you."

"You didn't." Aramis says to the leather of his uniform, "I just… thank you. No one has ever bought me such a thing before."

"What do you mean?" Athos askes, confused.

"I mean I have received gifts before, from… from my female acquaintances." He holds on to Athos even more tightly, "But never something so… thoughtful… from anyone."

Athos runs his fingers through Aramis' hair slowly, not knowing what to say. He feels a small sadness growing in his chest and suddenly Aramis pulls away.

"I apologise," Aramis says, "I did not mean to make you feel uncomfortable."

"Nonsense." Athos says and pulls him back, not liking the empty feeling between his arms. Athos holds Aramis for a short while but eventually lets go.

"Alright," He says, "Now we really are going to be late."

Aramis smiles and gets dressed hurriedly while Athos packs the blanket back in its box. They make their way back to the garrison and drop off the blanket in Aramis' room once they get there.

"Thank you Athos," Aramis says again, "Truly."

"You are welcome, Aramis." Athos replies, ruffling Aramis' hair, "Truly."

…

Athos does not see Aramis much for the rest of the day. Treville had assigned them separate duties and Athos had to train some new recruits which actually makes him envy Aramis' day-long patrol.

Athos finds himself in the same tavern as the night before once the day comes to an end. He sips his wine slowly again but becomes increasingly confused when Aramis does not show up. They had eaten dinner together at the garrison and gone their separate ways after. It is with a small pang of hurt that Athos realises one of Aramis' female friends must have longed for his company this night.

And so Athos returns to his apartment alone, hoping that whoever Aramis is with, he gets a good night's rest at the very least.

…

He sees Aramis the next morning, eating his breakfast in silence. He looks up when Athos sits opposite him and Athos notices some red on the edges of his eyes.

"Sleep alright?" Athos asks.

Aramis' face breaks into a smile and Athos is sure he has never seen anything quite so forced.

"I slept wonderfully, all thanks to my new blanket." Aramis states and continues eating.

Athos raises a brow, "You slept here then?"

"Of course," Aramis replies, looking a little confused.

Athos nods and eats the breakfast placed in front of him by Serge. He felt a little confused himself, if Aramis was here why did he not seek Athos' company? Especially if he is clearly still having trouble sleeping…

…

The next three nights go much the same and Athos is growing frustrated. Aramis tells him he is sleeping just fine every time he asks, but his eyes tell another tale.

On the fourth night, Athos decides he has had enough. For once he has grown bored of drinking and has admitted to himself that he actually misses Aramis' company. He leaves the tavern and makes way for the garrison. Once there, he climbs the steps to Aramis' room and knocks on the door. Receiving no reply, he tries the handle and the door swing open easily.

Peeking inside, Athos is surprised to find Aramis' room empty. His brows furrow in confusion as he wonders if perhaps, on this night, Aramis has in fact decided to spend his time with a lady. He closes the door and is about halfway down the stairs when something clicks. Where does Aramis usually go when he cannot sleep? To Porthos of course.

He climbs back up the stairs and stands in front of Porthos' door this time. He knocks and receives no reply. Sighing, he repeats his actions of moments before and turns the handle. The door opens but this time, the room is occupied.

Aramis is lying curled into a ball on Porthos' bed. He is covered in what looks to be both his own and Porthos' blankets with his new one wrapped around him like a cocoon. He is certainly asleep, but not peacefully slow. His face is a sign of distress; with his eyelids fluttering and worry lines between his brows.

Athos crosses the room in three strides and sits beside him on the bed. He smooths Aramis' hair back and tries to wake him.

"Aramis," Athos says, "Wake up brother."

The only response he gets is Aramis curling into himself even tighter and letting out a small groan. He is shivering, Athos can tell this even through all the layers he has covered himself with. Athos bends down to remove his boots. He shrugs out of his jacket and removes his hat. Somehow, with much patience and strength, he defeats Aramis' grip on the blankets and loosens them enough for him to slide beneath.

He wriggles as close to Aramis as he can manage, grabs him under his arms and hoists him onto his chest. Athos squeezes him tightly, willing more warmth to spread into his shaking form, after he hears Aramis' teeth chattering. Aramis' head shifts and lifts from Athos' chest as he startles awake.

"Athos?" He asks, looking up with red eyes, "What are you doing here?"

"I missed you, is all." Athos replies.

For a moment Aramis looks completely lost but then his face breaks into a genuine, if exhausted smile.

"Have you been struggling to sleep this whole week, Aramis?" Athos asks.

Aramis looks away and gives a small nod.

"Then why did you not come to me?" Athos asks, "Did I do something to upset you?"

"No!" Aramis answers hurriedly, "I don't understand… I thought that's why you bought me the blanket."

Athos stares at him, confused.

Aramis must read his confusion because he adds, "When you bought me the blanket, it was so that I could sleep on my own was it not?"

"I don't follow." Athos replies.

Aramis looks at him and seems to click, "Oh. I think there was a misunderstanding."

"What sort of misunderstanding?" Athos asks, still convinced he has done something wrong.

"When you bought the blanket," Aramis explains, "I thought you bought it so that I would not need to come to your apartment again."

Once the words tumble from his mouth Aramis immediately looks guilty.

"Aramis," Athos says as everything clicks into place, "I am sorry I gave that impression. I know that a mere blanket could never help with your… troubles. I simply got it because you liked the one I had so much. It was a gift, but certainly not some cryptic message for you to keep away. I hope I have never given you any other similar impressions but I will try and state this as clearly as I can; Aramis you are always welcome to come to me if something is troubling you. I care about you and Porthos, your wellbeing means a great deal to me. And I found I truly did miss your company."

Aramis' brows relax and his mouth stretches into a wide smile, "I am lucky to have the brothers I do."

Athos smiles back and Aramis rests his head back down, only to bring it back up again instantly.

"Why am I on top of you?" He asks, looking apologetic.

"Because I placed you on top of me so as to prevent you from shivering right off the bed." Athos states, "Now go to sleep, you look terrible."

Aramis smiles again and rests his head on Athos' chest. He takes a deep breath and Athos can tell the instant he is fast asleep. He seems much more peaceful and his breathing has evened out to a slower pace. Athos rubs his hands up and down his arms every time Aramis' body gives the slightest tremor. This is how he falls asleep, with Aramis safe and warm in his arms.

…

Porthos takes the steps up to his room two at a time. He feels like he could drop off to sleep standing up. The mission was successful but left him worn. He runs a hand over his face and wills himself to stay awake long enough to get to his door.

He opens his door and steps inside. He lights only one candle and closes the door behind him. He starts to take off his boots and uniform, tossing his hat unceremoniously on his table. When he turns to his bed he almost jumps out of his skin. There seems to be a large breathing lump under several blankets. It is an odd shape, too large to be a person.

He grabs his musket from his table and steps over to the bed. He grabs the pile of blankets, noticing one expensive looking one that is certainly not his and yanks them away, pointing his musket at the lump all the same.

"For heaven sake Porthos," comes Athos' voice, "Cover him again, I only just got him to stop shivering."

Porthos lowers his musket and smiles widely at the sight before him. Aramis is lying on top of Athos, wrapped in his arms. His right hand is fisted in Athos' shirt and his face is completely relaxed as he sleeps deeply. Athos is staring at Porthos with a raised eyebrow and Porthos immediately covers them back up.

"Is it cold?" Porthos whispers, "I never noticed."

"No… no it's not cold actually." Athos whispers back.

Porthos nods in understanding. He places a knee on the bed and moves his arms under the blankets. Without having to use even a tenth of his strength, he pushes Athos and Aramis closer to the wall and climbs in beside them. Both he and Athos tuck the blankets as tightly around Aramis as they can.

Porthos drifts off to sleep with his hand in Aramis' hair.

…

When Aramis wakes up he is so warm and comfortable he drifts back to sleep several times. Athos has both arms wrapped around him and there is a hand playing with his hair. He jolts in fright at this sudden realisation and lifts his head.

"Morning," Porthos says, still patting Aramis' hair.

"Porthos," Aramis says, grinning, "You're back."

Porthos shrugs, "I had a feeling I was missing out on something."

Aramis smiles at him, utterly relieved to have both his brothers with him.

"Are you okay?" Porthos asks.

"I'm a lot better than I was yesterday." Aramis says honestly.

Porthos nods, a small frown on his face.

"You look better." Comes Athos' voice from below him.

"Thank you Athos," Aramis says, "For everything."

"No need to thank me." Athos says.

Aramis moves to climb off him but Athos tightens his hold.

"Something the matter?" he asks and Aramis shakes his head.

"Then go back to sleep," Athos says, "The captain has no need of us today."

Aramis smiles and rests his head back down. He drifts off again to the feeling of Porthos running fingers through his hair and Athos rubbing his back. He feels completely safe with them, safe and warm.

"Whose fancy blanket is this?" He hears Porthos ask.

"It's Aramis'" Athos replies, "Now hush before you wake him."

"Wake him? He's already fast asleep. Look at him, I bet not even your snoring could wake him up."

"I do not snore," Athos hisses, "And if I did it would never be anything compared to your snoring."

Aramis chuckles at their bickering without opening his eyes and whatever retort Porthos was going to throw at Athos is halted instantly as they both go quiet.

Athos squeezes his arms tighter around Aramis and Porthos runs his hands through Aramis' hair with more purpose.

"Told you you would wake him." Athos' voice whispers.

"You woke him, not me."

"Well you started the argument."

"No I didn't."

"Yes, you did…"

Aramis' sleepy mind filters out their voices as he drifts back to the blissful world of sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> I am aware that this story line is similar to one of the chapters of Six Embraces, but I needed to write it for reasons :)


End file.
